


Loved You More

by girlfromthebar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Auror Draco Malfoy, Baby Scorpius Malfoy, Crookshanks, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Head Boy Draco Malfoy, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Era, Love, POV Draco Malfoy, Pregnant Hermione Granger, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Yule Ball (Harry Potter), hermione granger - Freeform, madly in love dramione, mentions of Bellatrix, this is so fluffy im almost sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28497066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromthebar/pseuds/girlfromthebar
Summary: As his eyes roamed her body, he had to stifle a laugh.Perched on top of her round and swollen stomach, laid her overly large, ginger cat who’s squished in face had gone white with age. Crookshanks, like his mother, was also sound asleep.As Draco moved closer to tuck a curl behind the love of his life’s ear and press a kiss against her belly to their unborn son, he thought about how he had never loved her more.And then actually laughed as the memories of all the times he had thought that flooded his brain.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 13
Kudos: 211





	Loved You More

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing; all characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I do not share her views, and all are welcome here.

As the emerald green embers of floo travel faded into the fireplace, Draco Malfoy was already halfway through loosening his tie and detaching his cliff links from his shirt. After an extensive and exhausting week in the DMLE, which included multiple auror raids, overnights, and paperwork piles that rivaled a small mountain, he almost felt as though he understood the muggle phrase his wife was always exclaiming.

Something about one of the gods and thanking them because it was Friday. 

Lost to his thoughts, Draco was almost so preoccupied he practically walked past his wife until one of her soft snores broke his stream of consciousness. 

And suddenly, the thoughts about interview tactics and forms he needed to sign on Monday were gone and replaced by nothing as he drank in sight before him. 

His beautiful wife had fallen asleep on their sofa, the very same one they had brought when they moved into their first flat together. Turned on her side, her right arm was thrown over her face while her left dangled onto the floor, her sapphire engagement ring practically touching the floor. Her wild curls had taken on a mind of their own, per usual, and were sticking out in all different directions. Her face was flushed, probably from the unseasonably warm weather they were having in early June, contrasting with the off white short sleeve dress she had thrown on this morning for her half-day in the office. 

As his eyes roamed her body, he had to stifle a laugh. 

Perched on top of her round and swollen stomach, laid her, well, now their, overly large, ginger cat who’s squished in face had gone white with age. Crookshanks, like his mother, was also sound asleep. 

As Draco moved closer to tuck a curl behind the love of his life’s ear and press a kiss against her belly to their unborn son, he thought about how he had never loved her more.

And then actually laughed as the memories of all the times he had thought that flooded his brain. 

_ The opening of the train compartment door to reveal wild, brown curls. “Has anyone seen a toad?” Suspecting that she would be Gryffindor because she had no fear when talking to strangers. No sneers or rude comments when he spoke of Slytherin. A weird feeling in his chest when she smiled at him. The sinking feeling in his gut when he heard her say, “my parents are muggles.”  _

_ The day after his thirteenth birthday. The fire in her brown eyes. Stunned into place by fear, not a spell. Pain, and then something hot and sticky dripping. Tasting cooper. Knowing deep down, he deserved it.  _

_ Twinkling lights. The smell of chestnuts. Periwinkle and tamed curls. Speechless. Stealing glances across the Great Hall. Wishing he could say how beautiful she was to her face. Ripped off heels. Tears. Seeing as red as the Durmstrang uniform of the man who kissed her better. Lace. Awkward fumbling. Sweat. Tangled hands in straight, black hair. Still not her. Still can’t forget her.  _

_ Burning pain in his left arm. Slughorn’s never-ending praise about the immortal idiot. Apples. Broom polish. Parchment. Cinnamon. Brown connecting with grey. Frizzy curls. He was fucked.  _

_“Penelope Clearwater, half-blood.” Her blood-curdling screams. His aunt’s deranged laughter. “F_ _ilthy Mudblood.”_ _Smelling cooper instead of tasting it. Wishing he tasted it. The same shade of red. Hers. His. The same damn shade as the Durmstrang uniform. Walls crumbling faster than they can be built. Disgust in his family. Fear for himself. Pride for her. She was always better than him._

_ Faded snake and skull on his flesh. Shackles. A sea of red. Hating that color. Tamed, but still wild curls. Passionate ramblings. Frustration. Ripping up her sleeve and shoving the slur on her arm into the air. “His actions saved my life.”  _

_ A shiny, meaningless, “symbol of unity.” A half rebuilt castle. Eye rolls at the phrase “eighth year.” Dorms that aren’t the dungeon. Being left alone with her. A million words to say, nothing coming out. Extended hand. “Hi, I’m Hermione Granger.” Bewilderment on his face. Fear of rejection on hers. A long pause. Too long. Starting to lower her hand. Gripping it too tight. “Draco Malfoy.” A new beginning.  _

_ Alchemy. The bane and fuel of his existence. Hers too. Research. Hushed whispers. Crumbled up theories. “What if we changed” conversations on rounds. Always we. Debates. Heated. Get thrown out of the library heated. Madam Pince’s glares. Late November winds howling through the castle. A breakthrough. Finally. Her excitement. Throwing herself into him. Curls that smell like cinnamon. Lips that taste like it, too.  _

_ February 13th. Claiming the fourteenth was “too typical.” Flushed cheeks. “Are you sure?” Tangled hands in brown curls sprawled on emerald sheets. Tongues, teeth, lips. Worshipping. Memorizing. “Please, Draco.” Mind-blowing. Absolute bliss. Peace.  _

_ Curled up on the sofa in front of the fire. Books were abandoned on the floor in front of them. Too much fire whiskey on a Friday night. Wanting to tell her and knowing he shouldn’t. Finally doing it anyway. Her smile as she says it too. Repeating it the next morning. And every morning after that.  _

_ Boats going back across the lake. Leaving the only place that felt like home. Hands interlocked with a new home. Three-hand squeezes. Feeling three back. Tracing his fingers over the band that holds the sapphire he put on her finger this morning. Knowing they’re too young and also not giving a damn what anyone says.  _

_ A silver key dangling from her hand the day after graduation. An empty flat. The drawing board for their life together. One-bedroom. No need for anything more or anyone else. A sly smile. A beaded bag. A swirl of magic as she transfigures a sofa like the one in the heads dorms. ‘The sofa,” she corrects him. A permanent reminder of their love.  _

_ Screaming rage over a simple misunderstanding. Words being thrown like hexes. Considering throwing hexes. A quick yank and a flash of blue flying through the air. Slamming of bedroom and wardrobe doors. A loud crack. Day turns to night, which circles back today. Rage turns to heartbreak. A green flash. “I’m sorry.” The sapphire returns to its home, and so does she, wrapped around him on their sofa.  _

_ The happiest weekend of his life. Auror graduation on Friday. Hearing, “I’m proud of you,” from meaningful people in his life. Most importantly, her. Saturday. A white dress. Promises in the form of gold bands. The best kiss of his life. Hearing “Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy” for the first time. Never wanting to hear it for the last. ‘ _

_ The small moments over the next three years as husband and wife. Birthdays, anniversaries, vacations. The mock disappointment when Crookshanks chose him over her. Becoming another set of aunt and uncle to the new Weasley babies. The look on her face when they became the godparents of Potter’s son. Nights curled up on their sofa. Never-ending happiness.  _

_ Rolling over to kiss her good morning. Waking up to an empty bed. The sound of crying from the bathroom. Plastic sticks on the counter, a glowing orb hovering over her stomach. Noticing his appearance in the mirror. Whispering, “you’re going to be a dad.” Hugging and crying and laughing. Disbelief. Fear. Pride. Love.  _

_ Hearing, “it’s a boy,” from the muggle healer. Picking names on the way home. Arguing over the other’s choice. Imagining a curly-haired blond on a broomstick. Promising himself, he will do better than his father did.  _

“Draco?” The sound of Hermione’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “Are you okay? What are you thinking about?” 

Draco sat down on the floor in front of the sofa after placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Nothing much, darling. Just about how I’ve never loved you more than I do right now.” 

She rolled her eyes. “You always say that. I guarantee the day Scorpius is born will be the last time you say it,” she said, rubbing a hand over her stomach. 

“I doubt it. You always find a way to surprise me, Granger.” 

She rolled her eyes again. “It’s Malfoy now. Has been for about the last three years.” 

“And it always will be,” Draco said before kissing his wife and silently thanking the muggle gods that he had the rest of his life to love her more than he did at that moment. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm almost sorry that was so fluffy, but a nice, happy piece to start the new year! 
> 
> Any thoughts you want to share? Any resolutions you're committing too? 
> 
> Love you all xx


End file.
